Philippa elbowed her.
They had not had a moment alone since arriving at Vauxhall Gardens. The York blanket was squeezed between Marjorie and Elizabeth, who were communicating in silent hand gestures, and Chloe and Faircliffe, who were the very picture of romantic contentment. Their gazes were so intent on each other, they barely noticed the colorful flying balloon, much less Tommy choking down Mrs. York’s cucumber sandwiches on the blanket behind them.
Tommy wished she and Philippa could snuggle shoulder-to-shoulder, lying on a blanket amidst a crowd of thousands, but with eyes only for each other.
Stroking Philippa’s hand yesterday had been a calculated risk…though Tommy still wasn’t certain what she had learned. Philippa hadn’t simpered or batted her eyelashes, but nor had she reacted unfavorably.
It gave Tommy a glimmer of hope.
At the moment, Philippa looked calmly oblivious to both the very-much-in-love couple on the blanket next to them, as well as to her mother prattling on about her daughter’s future opportunities as though Tommy didn’t exist. Perhaps after three and twenty years of similar scenes, she had learned not to let it bother her.
At the moment, one of Philippa’s hands wasright thereat Tommy’s side. How she wished she could entwine their fingers! It was torture being so close and yet unable to touch.
“Ooh,” the spectators breathed as the balloon rose higher.
The knuckles of Philippa’s hand brushed against Tommy’s.
She froze, her heartbeat accelerating. Had Philippa touched her on purpose? Or was it an accident? Was the brush of fingers part of the masquerade? It wouldn’t be much of a sham courtship if Philippa didn’t pretend to be courted. Tommy let out a slow breath. Was that all yesterday had been? Tolerating the touch of Tommy’s hand because it helped to better convey the fiction of their romance to their audience?
But Tommy had taken great carenotto be seen yesterday. And who was watching them now? Every face was tilted toward the sky.
Maybe the soft brush of fingers meant nothing. Or maybe…Maybe…
The spectators cheered as the pilot of the balloon waved goodbye.
“Goodbye, Captain Knave-thrup,” Tommy called under her breath. “Never return.”
“If only it were so simple,” Philippa murmured back.
When the trees blocked the view of the balloon, the audience packed up their picnics and began to disperse. Some no doubt returned home, whereas others took advantage of Vauxhall’s twelve acres of pleasure gardens.
And some waited to be presented to Baron Vanderbean.
“Philippa, introduce your gentleman to me.”
“Not so reclusive anymore, eh, Vanderbean?”
“Sothishandsome fellow is the heir we’ve been eager to meet.”
“You won’t let Miss York takeallyour attention, will you?”
For the next quarter hour, Tommy bowed at and flattered men and women of the ton. It was amusing that they were so eager to meet her. A few hopeful debutantes openly glared at Philippa while waiting their turn to be introduced.
These were the same people who turned up their noses at the idea of being friendly to someone beneath their station. The sort who acted as though they didn’t notice children like Tommy in the street. As far as Tommy was concerned, the real Baron Vanderbean outranked all of these self-important nobs.
Mrs. York was cock-a-hoop over the attention.
In fact, everyone’s plans were working. The ton got to meet the new baron. Mrs. York had more eyes on her daughter than ever before. Philippa could pretend to be following instructions in order to milk a few more weeks of freedom.
And Tommy…Tommy had Philippa, if only for a short while.
Tommy was used to temporary. Forever was for other people. People like her could only snatch the little moments when they were lucky enough to get them, and do their best to hold them close.
“Well,” said Mrs. York as many of the spectators drifted away. “At leastthat’sover.”
She did not appear the least bit vexed. Tommy half expected Mrs. York to sprout tail feathers to rival a peacock at the attention and jealous looks she and Philippa had been given. Tommy exchanged a look with her siblings.
Philippa turned to Tommy. “Now we have you all to ourselves again.”
